“We’re not soldiers, Head Sentient.” Somehow, the title sounded even more repulsive when she used it. “We aren’t trained fighters. You’re asking people to march to their deaths for one woman.” It was then that she turned to the all-too impressionable bystanders. “The Sanguinatores will slaughter them all. Our safest plan of action is to stay put and thank the Mothers that they didn’t do more than kidnap one person.”
“We don’t have time for this!” Mara growled impatiently.
Savina faltered a step backwards, but a handful of sneers forming at her back in defense seemed to fuel her indignation. “Oh, I think we do. Maybe you missed the part where they took out almost half of our entire population?” Savina argued, earning a dozen nods.
In a panic, Sean looked to the stands. He expected to find half of his people either dead or dying. What he saw, though disturbing, wasn’t anything quite that severe. It was true, people were wounded, and that was enough to cross a line, but at least they were alive. From what he could tell, no one had been taken out, as she put it.
Still, the crowd seemed to be in agreement.
“Even with all of our numbers we weren’t a match for them,” she continued. “You’re daft if you think that facing them one to one will improve our chances.”
The crowd thickened, the masses now surrounding Sean trying to make sense of what had happened and what was yet to come. An onslaught of doubtful looks blitzed them. With that one statement, Savina appeared to be convincing even a few members of the Waves, who were standing less determined than they were when they’d first reached Mara.
“She’s right. You mean to go to war.” Uncertainty pierced through the glistening hickory eyes of Amal, second in command, as she tugged her headdress closer. “For one person, you want to risk the lives of almost one hundred?”
Sean felt his stomach drop. The chances of retrieving Graciela were tenfold with larger numbers, but those were dwindling faster by the second. Some of the First and Second Waves were already stepping back, either because they feared losing their lives or because they’d decided Graciela’s wasn’t worth the risk.
Sean knew otherwise though. To him, to Santiago, to Mara, hers was worth everything.
But their reasoning was sound. Amal had backed him into a corner, no thanks to Savina as well. He was asking a lot of them. This attack likely would mean the loss of more lives. He hadn’t yet wondered whether or not he could live with that. All he was considering was the off chance that they could save Graciela.
But he couldn’t let his personal gain interfere with his leadership duties. This community relied on him to make decisions in everyone’s best interest. And currently, he couldn’t say with certainty that this was one of them.
Before he could apologize, fully intent on siding with the masses, Mara stepped forward. “No one life is worth any more or any less than others. This is what Hope is about. We came together for that reason, because we believed in cohabitation, in harmony. This moment is our chance to prove that’s what we stand for. This is what we’ve been training for.”
Even Sean found himself arguing with her in his mind. If it was harmony they wanted, fighting wasn’t necessarily the first route that came to mind on strategies to achieve it.
“We knew this day would come eventually,” she continued, overtly making note of the weary looks in the crowd. Especially Sean’s. “Whoever it would be, we knew we’d be threatened. If we don’t take a stand now, what would that say about us?”
It seemed like a rhetorical question, but Carson’s voice broke through in response. “It would mean no one was safe here, that we don’t care about each and every person at Hope. That we won’t protect them with our own lives.”
Mara nodded. “Do any of you want to belong to a sanctuary where, if your life was threatened, no one would take a stand for you? Would you want to live in a place where, if your brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, and your friends were taken against their will, that we would sit back and do nothing?” Eyes aflutter, Mara leaned against the pole and let her head rest on it. So much force inside those words and the people around her felt it too. “We have to do this.”
The growing crowd was an amalgam of cautious nodding and the tight faces of people intent on vengeance. Only a few people remained hardened, Savina forever their poster child, but those were so sparse they hardly caused reason for concern.
In a matter of seconds, they’d gone from a potential mutiny to regaining the support of their people. All thanks to Mara. Once again, she’d managed to save everything, even Sean from himself. He knew in his heart this was the right thing to do. He had just needed the reminder.
“And for the record, Sean isn’t going to war,” she continued. “The Sanguinatores brought war to us. If you’d like to stand by and be slaughtered, be our guest. But the rest of us, those who don’t want to die, we’re going after them before they come back for more.”
Reinvigorated, Sean took to the stage before anyone could change their minds. “So we gather the Waves and anyone else willing. We fight back. Not just for Graciela, but for all of Hope.”
Within a matter of seconds, they’d recruited more than just the seventy people who were a part of the Waves. Mara, although still a bit woozy from what Zane and his people had done to her, guided those willing to the training grounds to retrieve weapons.
“Fools.” Savina snarled, spinning on a heel to storm out of the arena in the opposite direction. A few others trailed her, some with conviction, others clearly too frightened to make decisions for themselves. Regardless, it didn’t deter the abled and trained from joining arms, nearly one hundred strong.
Sean directed the rest of Hope, those still gathering themselves and loved ones from the stands, either to the medic tent to await care from Darach or to the food tent. It seemed as good a spot as any for them to huddle together for comfort
“Will you stay back with the others? Keep them calm until we return.”
Amal seemed unshaken by the request. After all, per AwA agreements, at least one of them had to stay at Hope at all times. “Of course,” she said with conviction. “Good luck, Sean.”
At his last instruction, Sean jogged to catch up to the Waves and the other battle-ready citizens, heading the group, alongside Mara, Ryka and Meeka.
He glanced at the people who marched beside him, all of whom seemed to be the epitome of ruthless determination. He wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of their fury. Merciless revenge seeped from every person’s demeanor, determined to protect what was theirs.
The small militia was maybe one hundred people large, approximately three quarters of them Awakened, an arsenal of deadly, superhuman strengths able to wipe out hundreds of people if necessary. Temperals strode with ice shards, twisters of sand, and flames brewing at their palms. Next in line were the Myths. Seven of them were in their ranks, a combination of dragons, valkyrie, satyrs and gargoyles, all but the satyrs in their hybrid forms. For the two dragons and the gargoyle that meant a humanesque shape of scales and stone for skin and membranous wings stretching out from their backs that created large gusts of wind below. The valkyrie too flew high overhead, her eyes a luminescent purple, angelic wings arching behind her. All Sean could hear was the feathered, whooshing sound they made from below. With Amal staying back, only one satyr marched at the rear, maintaining the force field he kept around everyone.
He nodded to Mara and the Shifter Sisters, indicating that he was going to fall back in their ranks. None of them thought anything of it, as they focused on the task at hand: protecting Hope.
Sean ducked between the remaining Myths on the ground and tried not to step on or through any of the shadows. Filling in the rest of the Waves were the remaining Unawakened and Awakened, unidentifiable from each other as those with other abilities were not so easily detected at first glance.
The last for Sean to maneuver around were the two rows of people typically associated with the Venomous Vengeance
. Even though the ones at Hope had taken a vow against joining such a hateful faction, even just walking past him brought the hair on his neck on end. Never could he fully disassociate them from the people who’d cost him his brother’s life. The scorpions, anura, spiders, viperid, cubozoa and porcupines stood in unison with the other Awakened, their defenses—stingers, web, needles, venom, and claws—ready to fire on a whim.
One false step and he’d find himself poisoned, paralyzed, or deceased in seconds.
There were times when you knew the odds were stacked against you but you fought for your life regardless of the outcome. In those moments, you were driven by necessity and fear, unsure of what the result would be, not knowing if you or anyone would live to see another day, but you did it because it was the only chance of survival, no matter how grim.
This was not one of those moments.
Sean felt it in his bones, just by looking among them that the people of Hope would come out of this as victors.
Through ragged breaths, Mara spoke, each word more strained than the last. “You know I disagree with Savina’s input, but there is some truth to it. The Sanguinatores are powerful. They took down half of us earlier, myself included. How do we plan to take them on with even fewer numbers?”
He remembered the faces of the people who’d been impacted in the crowd by the power of the Sanguinatores, their terror, their pain. But more notably, he remembered those who weren’t impacted. It had taken him a moment to realize why, but now he understood.
Sean’s eyes sparkled with something between spite and glee. “Because we know one of their weaknesses now.”
She eyed him curiously. “Okay? And how do we exploit said weakness?”
“Easy,” Sean looked her dead in the eyes. “We become invincible.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Mara
With an empty stomach and disorienting sinus pressure, Mara begrudgingly let the Shifter Sisters take over the task of assigning weapons. Whether they had enough for the number of people present had yet to be seen.
A step away from the crowd, she felt herself wavering.
“Whoa.” Sean caught her shoulders, steadying her frame before she found herself in a heap of uselessness on the ground. “Are you doing all right?”
“I’m fine.” She wasn’t. Being under Zane’s grasp had taken more out of her than she realized. “For now.”
Though she was in no condition to fight, the least she could do was help the others get ready. Besides, she wasn’t entirely useless. She still had her mind. She couldn’t help but mull over the happenings of the Tri-Lunar Festival, to replay the exact moment the Sanguinatores marched onto centerfield.
She turned to him. “The only people left standing were either newly Awakened or those still learning to control their powers… I think every one of them, at least of the faces I can remember, had been issued inserts.”
“I noticed the same. Even for a blood guide, Awakened power is ineffective against USTOTA. And Zane didn’t seem to understand why they couldn’t attack everyone. USTOTA is one of the luxuries we have that Surviving and Thriving didn’t. It’s possible they’ve never encountered something like it before.”
Another wave of dizziness spun her like a twister. Mara rested her head onto her pole and shrugged Sean’s offers to help away. When it finally passed, she shifted, head cocked, and addressed him with a hint of mischief. “You plan to give everyone an insert.” His head bobbed, and Mara unfurled. First, excitement, but then there was caution. “But with inserts, they will be powerless.”
“So will the Sanguinatores,” he reasoned. “We won’t be entirely powerless. We have the Waves, and you’ve been training them in both Awakened and physical combat. It might give us an upper hand, since I have a feeling the Sanguinatores are used to using only their abilities.” Sean paused before adding, “This coming from the queen of hand-to-hand combat.”
Mara strained. “True, but I don’t think I’ll be joining you for this one.” The thought was almost too painful to bring life to it with words, but Mara of all people knew the dangers of pushing one’s physical limits.
“No, of course not,” he replied with a grim smile. One hand fell to Mara’s shoulder, gently so as not to cause her any more struggle with her balance. “But we appreciate you helping to get everyone ready.”
The way things were going, her job was almost complete. Most of the weapon racks were bare, or nearly so. Placeholders where they’d stored axes, spears, halberds, clubs, ice picks, baseball bats, and any other random weapons they’d been able to get their hands on were marked only by discolored bleaches in the wood from where they had hung. Most of the weapons had found their way to Hope by accompanying someone on their journey there. Once again, the weapons returned to the hands of the community, with renewed purpose. Mara’s only hope was that they served them well.
“Sean, I did what you asked.” Distinct from the hundred other voices was the worried, weaseled tone of Carson as he fumbled forward clutching a ball cap to his head with throwing knives hooked along his belt. “It seems like Zane’s group is headed west. Or there’s some other disturbed, vicious group right outside our door.”
“Better not be,” Sean grunted. “That’s the last thing we need right now.”
“It can’t be anyone else,” Mara said factually, even if she had an inkling of doubt.
“It’s them,” Carson reassured. “Hunger isn’t usually an emotion I can sense, but those bloodthirsty crackpots… Well, we sent the scouts to retrieve the horses. They’re going to meet us at the west entrance. Everyone else is just awaiting orders and a strategy debrief before heading out.”
Sean turned to Mara. “You think you can handle that much, or would you like me to step in?”
Adamantly, she nodded. “I can handle talking. I was attacked, but I’m not that easily defeated.”
“No, you really aren’t.” Sean turned to address Carson. “Do us a favor and retrieve the inserts from USTOTA. All of them. And be quick. We can’t leave without them.”
“What do we need all of the inserts for—never mind. You got it,” he winked. “But first, you should know, I sensed someone else out there, coming from the east. Could be nothing, just a lonely traveler, but it does seem fishy, what with the timing of it all. Just thought you should know.”
“How far off?”
“Can’t be too far if I can sense them already. A kilometer maybe? They’ll be here sooner rather than later.”
“Okay. Thank you,” Sean said, caught in a pensive state as Carson darted for the tower.
Mara cornered him with her gaze. “Don’t worry about it. Even I could handle one lonely traveler.”
“I hope so because we’re taking most of the good fighters.”
“You could leave a couple here with me, just in case.”
He gave it some thought, then said partially joking, “Trey is in the infirmary with Santiago. He counts as ten people, right?”
Mara brightened. “At least.”
Once the scouts, Carson, Sean and the Waves made it to the west entrance, Mara addressed the group. It was the first time she’d truly been in the role of Associate Sentient, the commander of war tactics and strategy. She knew this day would come, and despite having prepared for it, it was nothing more than a moment of shame for her. She was sending these people into battle with no intent of accompanying them. Many of them would die while she waited, snug in the comforts of Hope’s borders.
But she kept all those concerns to herself and spoke like the leader the people needed. Mara retold the plan, as Sean had instructed, and publically announced Ryka and Sean as the leaders in battle.
She kept it short, and then they set off into the unknown to face a threat greater than anything they’d ever encountered.
“Once you deal with the lonely traveler, give Santiago this.” Sean dropped one of the remaining inserts into her palm.
Mara twirled it between her fingertips. A burst of air escaped her.
“He’s not going to be too happy when he awakens to find you’ve left without him.”
“No, he won’t.” As he always did in moments of stress, anxiety, and fear, Sean began rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly. “Keep an eye on him for me. Make sure he doesn’t do anything—”
“What? Brash? Foolish? Completely unplanned and dangerous?” Mara couldn’t help but laugh. “Santiago? Never.” She allowed herself one playful grin, before resuming all seriousness. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep him under a tight watch.”
He carved up a smile of his own, one shattered and dejected.
“She’s going to be all right.” Mara offered what little comfort she could, she herself not believing the odds fully either.
He nodded. “I hope so.”
And with that, grip tight on his machete, Sean stepped in line with the others.
“Be safe,” she said.
As Sean walked away with the rest of the troops, Mara added quietly to herself an old Sanjari blessing, one she hadn’t uttered since her separation from her sisters and the downfall of society. “May the After swallow all darkness and allow dreams to illuminate your way.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Graciela
Graciela’s arms jolted forward by command of a rope, her wrists burning. Without much light to guide them, she couldn’t tell where they were going and nearly fumbled into Zane walking in front of her. Her best guess was that they didn’t need torches or the sun. They were guided by scent alone. Still, each step she took into the unknown, away from the familiar safety and security of Hope that she’d quickly come to depend on and love, the less certain she felt about her decision to go so willingly.
There’d be no surviving whatever the Sanguinatores had planned for her, not now that she was so outnumbered. At least back at Hope she could’ve stood a chance. They could’ve fought for her, with her.
All she had now was the incomplete training Mara had given her.
Blood Awakens Page 30
